


the thing we never said

by avocadoapocalypse



Category: The Goldfinch (2019), The Goldfinch - Donna Tartt
Genre: M/M, Pining, Theo POV, a little angsty but I don't have the heart to write real angst, i wrote this in my head in gym class, it's just a drabble and like nothing happens don't mind me, just your basic antwerp gay shit, soft, the fuck me pumps are there bc yes, theo is a little bitch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-15 02:47:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21246230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avocadoapocalypse/pseuds/avocadoapocalypse
Summary: Theo reflects on his time spent in Antwerp.





	the thing we never said

Boris brought me to his flat in Antwerp and took care of me like we took care of each other when we were kids set adrift in the desert. His cooking skills hadn't improved much since our days of eating bread and sugar, but he warmed up canned soup on the stove for me. We curled up under a blanket and watched old movies on his couch, and when he looked up at me and smiled gently, I wondered if the warmth I felt in my stomach was really from the soup. I almost said it then, the words I'd been pushing down for a decade. 

I tried to sleep on his couch-- now that we were two grown men, I reasoned that it would be weird to share beds like little kids. Things are different now. but somehow I ended up crawling into his bed half-conscious after a nightmare, eyes still blurred with sleep as I tried to dispel images of dust mixing with blood on the museum floor. He understood immediately without me having to explain, not that I was in any position to make coherent explanations. When I climbed under the covers next to him, he didn’t complain, just wrapped his arms around my body and pulled me close like when we were all we had in the world. In my sleep-addled state, I barely stopped myself from saying it. It seemed he still knew well enough what I was feeling as he stroked my hair and whispered jumbled Polish phrases into the back of my neck.

I knew I needed to get back to reality. We couldn’t stay for long in this dream-like hologram where it was just the two of us. At every opportunity, Boris jokingly begged me to stay. “Come work for me, Potter!” over and over. As appealing as the idea sounded when we were tangled up in his bed after a few too many drinks, I knew I had to get back to my ordinary life. I wouldn’t fit into Boris’ world, and he certainly wouldn’t blend in with the elitist social circle of the Barbours. Being around him brought to the surface thoughts and feelings I hadn’t paid mind to in years, and that wasn’t necessarily a good thing. So it wasn’t until he walked away, heels clicking on the airport floor after hugging me goodbye before my flight, that I whispered to his receding figure: “I love you.”

**Author's Note:**

> and HE NEVER SAID IT TO BORIS' FACE BECAUSE HE'S A LITTLE BITCH  
(I already posted this on tumblr but I edited it a tiny bit and also I'm an attention whore. hmu there (my url is the same) if you wanna yell about The Goldfinch)


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